Forgetting the Past
by DragonArtist93
Summary: Mr. T falls asleep in his chair; bad things happen. Fourtunatly all bad leads to good. Sweenett and complete.
1. Sleep Well Mr Todd

This is a story that is like the reverse of littlezion's story, Times Forgotten. You Should read it.

bDisclamer/b(sp)b:/b I don't own Sweeney Todd....

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Sweeney Todd's POV:

I hated these feelings; they made me feel so normal, yet so stupid at the same time. Why couldn't I just forget, why couldn't I just not feel? Life would be better for me, I wouldn't feel remorse for killing all those people, I wouldn't feel depressed about my late wife and I wouldn't hate myself so much.  
I could hear barking, it must have been that dumb dog Toby had found. They called it Spot, it had a lot of spots was their reason. The barking was getting louder; Spot was coming up the stairs. He jumped up on top of me; I was sitting on my chair. My face was covered in dog saliva by the time I was able to push him off me. He left a very happy dog. If it wasn't for Ms. Lovett's pleading, I would have killed that dog already.

"Mr. T, I'm so sorry about that." Ms. Lovett said breathing heavily; she must have run up here before I got the razors out. She tried not to giggle at the site of the look on my face. It was aggravating, but she was trying not to laugh so I ignored it.

"Alright, can I have a washcloth though?" The slobber stunk.

"Of course Mr. T, I'll be right up with it." She left at a slower pace, taking Spot with her.

Ms. Lovett was taking awhile, so I decided to check up on her only to find that she was in her rush hour time. There were so many people here; I never really paid attention to the number of people that walked through her doors. It was sickening to think about; they had no idea what was going on. They just kept eating what they thought was a legit pie.

Figuring that Ms. Lovett would be awhile with that washcloth, I went into the parlor to get one myself.

After cleaning my face, I went back into my shop and sat at the chair Ms. Lovett had so kindly given to me. Plenty of time passed without me even realizing it; I was thinking about my Lucy and what had happened. It felt like mere minutes, not hours. So I didn't realize when I drifted off into sleep.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

Just as I was going to fetch a washcloth for Mr. T, I got caught up in my afternoon crowd. There were probably twice as many costumers today than there ever was before. I ran out of pies in only thirty minutes; not the usual hour it took. Mr. T came down about twenty minutes into the rush, probably looking for that washcloth. He went into the parlor, most likely to get it himself since he could see that I was pretty busy. That was the last time I had seen him all day though; usually I see him about three or four times a day. One maybe two times a day he'll come downstairs himself; otherwise I'll be up there with his bloody food. If I didn't he wouldn't ever eat; stupid man. But I guess that's why I've always loved him.

I felt the need to check on him, but first I would need to clean the basement. It was becoming smelly again. I could hardly believe the smell, I guess in all the excitement of the extra costumers distracted me from the stench. About halfway into the cleaning session I looked up to see Mr. T's hatch open, only to nearly pass out.

Third Person:

When Ms. Lovett had left into the basement, Spot decided he would "check" on Mr. Todd for her. Spot ran up the stairs at full speed; rammed the door open and smashed into the chair. But Sweeney was a heavy sleeper; he didn't even stir. Spot jumped up on his lap, than became impatient when nothing happened. He bounced around over-excited and accidently hit the foot pedal that activated the chairs mechanism.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

The person that slid down the chute was none other than Mr. T. I had such a hard time not screaming or passing out that it took a second for my mind to work right. I had to get Mr. T out of here and get a doctor, if not, the consequences could be unthinkable. It was difficult to get him up the stairs and onto the couch, and I couldn't ask for Toby's help. After about ten painful minutes he was in the parlor. I had to come up with something quick, he needed a doctor and doctors ask questions. My only idea was that he was helping me in the kitchen and slipped; it was a stupid excuse if they knew Mr. T because he wouldn't have been in the kitchen. But they don't know that so that was the excuse.

"Mum, what's wrong with Mr. Todd?" Toby asked.

"He was helping me in the kitchen and he slipped." It was a good thing I already put the slippery fluids on the floor and that Toby didn't know Mr. T all that well. "Be careful dear I don't want you to slip either. Now go fetch me a doctor."

Hopefully it wouldn't take him that long to get the doctor; unfortunately it took almost thirty minutes and I had to stop the blood. He hadn't been bleeding badly and I planned to use this to help make it look like he really had fallen here. But Toby was taking so long and he couldn't lose that much blood.

"Mum, I got the doctor, sorry I took so long."

"What happened here Miss?"

"Mr. T was helping me in the kitchen and he slipped; I accidently spilled some of the pie filling, he was helping clean up. It's dry now so it's not a big deal anymore." The doctor seemed to fall for carefully walked over to us and checked Mr. T's head. "Well it looks like a concussion, a bad one too; he must have hit the counter when he fell."

"Yah, it was terrible." The counter part was a lie, but the terrible part was more than true.

"I see you cleaned up the wound, that's good. So here's the thing, for the rest of the day, don't let him go to sleep."

"Will he wake up soon?" Toby asked concerned, which was a little on the unusual side.

"Yes, but don't be alarmed if he suffers from memory loss; I'm not sure how severe it will be, he could just forget today or his entire life. I expect it from this kind of fall. The effects could fade in a couple of days or months, I won't be able to tell till later."

After helping me carefully get him to the couch he left, leaving me with some painkillers. Mr. T wasn't going to wake up anytime soon like the doctor had said, he must have just been saying that because he thought Toby was his son.

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I know its not a good cliffhanger srry. Review plz


	2. Benjamin Barker

Ms. Lovett's POV:

The wait was maddening, Mr. T still hadn't woken up and it had nearly been all day. I was ready to punch something, but I was never a violent person so that thought and need quickly passed.

"Fuck." Mr. T groaned. Usually I didn't appreciate the swearing, but right now it was the greatest word in the entire world.

"Mr. T are you alright?"

"My head hurts." He groaned again.

"Because you hit it pretty hard, I'm just so glad that you didn't lose your memories." Then that got me thinking, maybe he doesn't have all his memories. "Mr. T, can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know; where am I? Where's Lucy?"

He didn't remember a thing; he thought his Lucy was still alive. Well she was but she poisoned herself so it's not like he would have been able to keep her. She was barking mad, and now I had to lie about that again. It was hard the first time, and now it very easily could be harder. I looked into his eyes; his expression was less guarded than the first time he asked. I couldn't do it, I just couldn't do it. So I did what I could do; I ran into my room.

"Wait!"

"Mum?"

It was just too much; he was so broken that it made me feel worse.

Sweeney Todd's POV:

She just ran into the room, the mysterious woman that was in my house. _Wait a minute._ The house changed, the wallpaper was singed and there were all sorts of little things inside the house that wasn't there when I went to sleep. I tried to remember something that happened recently, anything that would help me understand what the hell was going on. I was coming up with blanks.

"Mr. Todd?"

"What?" What did he call me?

"Are you okay?"

"What did you call me?" Did I know this kid?

"Mr. Todd, that's your name."

"No it's not it's Be…," That odd woman came out and wrapped her arms around my shoulder.

"Can I speak to you?"

I nodded lightly; all of a sudden she seemed different. She closed the door behind me and pulled me to the bed. I was nervous at first, who was she. But when she only showed interest in talking I relaxed a bit.

"Look, your name is Sweeney Todd, you don't remember that but that's what it is." Then she started writing on a small piece of paper.

It read: _Benjamin, about seventeen years ago you were falsely accused of a horrible crime, they sent you to prison for life. But you escaped two years ago and found your way back here; no one knows about this because you would be sentenced to the gallows. You changed your name to Sweeney Todd, you're still a barber and I have let you stay here because it was your home first. I bought it from the state because there was a fire some years ago. I go by Ms. Lovett, and I call you Mr. T; you mustn't tell anyone about this, not a soul. Toby, the boy out there doesn't know either._

This was all way too confusing, but I quickly noticed that this note said absolutely nothing about my wife and child.

On the back I wrote: _Ms. Lovett, I thank you greatly for this information but you have failed to tell me where my wife and child are. If you know I would really appreciate it._

Ms. Lovett's POV:

It was hard to answer that question, but it needed to be answered.

"Your wife poisoned herself and Judge Turpin has adopted your Johanna." It was hard to spit it out, so I purposely left out the dyeing part.

His face was so, so hard to describe really; all those years in prison were not affecting him like last time. Last time, he was sad yes but it's nothing compared to now. He isn't the hardened man he was six or seven hours ago; he was Benjamin Barker the new barber of Fleet Street. So it was hard for me to lie to his face, more now than ever. That's when my senses and my heart collided; unfortunately for Mr. T, my heart won.

"She didn't die though," I started, nervous.

He looked up at me expectantly.

"She's still alive, but not in the greatest state of mind." There I said it; he would surely kill me if he got his memories back on the soon side of life.

"Well where is she? I must see my wife, and my child, surely he will pardon and let me have her back." The whole 'hanging in the gallows' part wasn't registering in his mind was it.

"You can't he will kill you remember."

"But my wife…,"

I cut him off; he needed to understand.

"Is dead at heart, she doesn't remember anything. She's barking mad; I'm sorry I said it that way but that's the only way to describe her condition. You won't be able to get her back."

"I still must see her; I have to." He was about to bolt out the door if I hadn't have grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait, please just wait."

"I must see my wife."

"I know, and you will, just wait until the dinner rush comes around."

"Why? You'll be busy by then."

"I know, but Lucy comes here every night; so just wait till then."

He plopped back down on the bed, I hadn't realized how easily won Benjamin was; Mr. T would have first ripped my head off and then looked for Lucy. I suppose that's what prison does to a man.

"Ms." He paused at a loss of words.

"Lovett."

"Ms. Lovett, will you pardon me for swearing in front of you?"

I had to stifle a laugh; this didn't seem like the same man sitting next to me.

"Of course, don't worry about it."


	3. Lucy

Sweeney Todd's POV:

A few hours had passed since Ms. Lovett and I had spoken; I felt like a little child all over again. I was going to see my beautiful Lucy so soon; Ms. Lovett was crazy, nothing could separate Lucy from me and me from Lucy. I was out the door and down the stairs the moment I heard the costumers coming in one by one, but no Lucy.

Then, almost an hour later, a small hunched over figure walked into the shop. I paid little attention to her; I was looking for my Lucy.

So I was surprised when Ms. Lovett pulled the crazy old woman into the parlor and told the Toby boy that she would be a second.

"So this is her, I know you don't believe me but on the outside she looks pretty much the same, just older." Ms. Lovett left the room quickly to tend to the amazing amount of numbers in her shop.

"Lucy?" I couldn't help but ask.

She never looked at me; she was just rummaging around looking at stuff.

"Lucy, it's me Ben." She didn't acknowledge me. Ms. Lovett was proving to be right, this wasn't my Lucy. It was her body alright; if you looked beyond the crazy expression on her face you could tell that she was beautiful. But my Lucy really was dead; it was her body but not her soul. So what did I do? I cried, I cried like I never cried before, and for some odd reason it really did feel like I haven't cried in a lifetime. Maybe this 'Sweeney Todd' wasn't the crying type, I wished in all of that terrible moment that I could go back to that life. Even if I couldn't remember it, it seemed so much better than right now.

In all my crying I hadn't realized that one, Lucy had left and two, Ms. Lovett had been standing there trying to talk some sense into me for who knows how long.

"What?" I managed to snivel.

"Mr. T please stop crying, this is very unlike you."

"What is normal of me?"

"Well I'm not so sure in this circumstance but you wouldn't be crying for heaven's sake."

So I coughed once, then I tried my best to stop crying.

"Why did my Lucy poison herself?"

"Judge Turpin, he, well, he rapped her when you were gone in prison."

If I had been a violent person than I would have walked up to that Judge's house and slit his throat faster than you could say stop. I did have an odd urge to do just that; it was unnerving.

"Here love." Ms. Lovett handed me a mirror and I was almost afraid to look into it; she did say that seventeen years had passed since my last couple of memories.

Nothing in the world could have prepared me for what I saw in that bloody mirror. My face was pale, no white! Along with my hair, but only one streak, who the hell does that? I was a barber for crying out loud, why the fuck didn't I cut it down and dye it back? My eyes were the worst part though they were black, they used to be brown but not now, and I had the biggest circles under my eyes just like Ms. Lovett.

"What…the…hell…" I barely managed to gasp out. "Wouldn't I have gotten a tan in the prison?"

"No, they only let prisoners out in small intervals. You were in your cell most of the time, besides, it's so dark here that the tan would have gone away in a short year."

"Why did you hand me the mirror, did you want me to have a heart attack?" I nearly yelled; did she want me dead?

"I was hoping to jog your memories actually."

"Oh." Quite the opposite then, she was just trying to help. "Thank you, your efforts on my behalf are most appreciated."

"Mr. T," She laughed, "you don't…have to…thank…me…it's what….I….do…almost every….day." I never seen anyone laugh so open and free like that; but it was slightly unnerving that she was laughing about my courtesies.

"Ms. Lovett, I must thank you; you have helped me in so many different ways that I must find a way to repay you."

She laughed harder.

"Ms. Lovett please."

She stopped, realizing that I was more than confused and it was beginning to hurt my feelings.

"I'm sorry; it's just that, well quite frankly you've never, ever been that polite to me or anyone before."

"Wow, I must have been an ass all these years." I mumbled, but she heard me.

"Kinda, but we don't care, and besides you had a very good reason."

She was forgiving, more so than I could ever ask for, and apparently I've been mean to her. Another question popped into my head and wouldn't leave.

"Ms. Lovett, um, are we married?" The look on her face told me everything, no we weren't and she was completely shocked by the question.

"No, you still love Lucy."

"Then why do I live here?"

"Because I figured you'd need a home; if I hadn't you'd have just died in some ally. I'm telling you love you have no sense of self preservation."

"But you bring me food almost every single day."

"You remember that!"

I didn't realize what she was talking about until I really thought about what I said. I did remember, at least the part where she would bring a plate of food, nothing else.

"Yes, but just that part, nothing else."

"That's good enough love."

"Why do you call me love?"

"Well I call everyone love, well, everyone that is close to me love."

"I'm confused."

"I call Toby love, he's my adopted son. You're my friend; family so I call you love."

"Oh."

"I'd have thought that you would have reacted to Lucy much differently."

"Like how?"

"Well, you just would have sulked more I suppose."

"I'm sorry if that has put a damper on your life."

"Don't worry, and stop apologizing to me, it's kind of creepy. Well goodnight Mr. T."

"Goodnight."


	4. Costumers

Disclaimer: if I owned Sweeney Todd then I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer so yah no suing I no own ^.^

Thanks for all the lovely reviews ^.^ and yes it is a sweenett it's just taking me a little while to get there.

It was a good thing Ms. Lovett had showed me my room earlier because if she hadn't I would have been totally lost and probably walked into the wrong room.

Once I got into the room I felt the need to look around, to do something that might trigger my memories that might make me Sweeney Todd again. I didn't know this man whom I had assumed identity as, but he seemed to be able to take care of himself fairly well.

While looking around I found my razors that I had been looking for; they were just sitting there, waiting for me, waiting for my decision. Lucy had always found my small obsession over them weird, but that seemed to make her love me more.

Ms. Lovett seemed to be that way too; this Sweeney Todd seemed like the proper ass at times, but Ms. Lovett really didn't care. She almost welcomed it by what I was able to gather; she didn't like it when I was being polite. Or maybe it was just weird to her, I'm not sure, but I'll have to make it my duty that when I get my memories back, I'll have to be nicer.

After about an hour later I figured that this would be pointless because I had nothing that could help me out right now. So I went to bed, well, what I meant to say was that I tried to. I had never, ever , ever! Had a night quite as bad as that night. But after I thought about it, maybe I had had worse nights, I didn't feel as tired as I thought I would. And I had this weird urge to start pacing. It made no sense to me.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

I couldn't say that I liked Benjamin Barker more than I liked Sweeney Todd, but I could say that it was very hard to believe that this was the same man. It was obvious that Sweeney Todd was seventeen years older than Benjamin Barker; the way Benjamin talked, like a confused child, over the way Mr. T talked, like a man, beaten for fifteen years, lived in hell and came back. Like I said, it was hard to believe that this was the same man.

I didn't have the best night's sleep, something was missing and it took me almost two long hours to figure it out. Mr. T wasn't pacing like he always did; I hadn't noticed its effects on me, but last night it was apparent. So I figured that Mr. T had gotten a good night's rest finally.

So, when I went into the kitchen to make breakfast for Toby and Mr. T, I was shocked to see the thick bags under his eyes; yes they were almost always there, but only on nights he had been pacing.

"Tired love?" I couldn't help laughing.

"Yes, I felt very restless." He still wasn't himself, if he was he would have just nodded or grunted.

"Mum, do you need something from the market? I felt bad about the Gin so I'm going to get more." Toby asked politely, all dressed up. It must have been cold out.

"Yes, I need spices and meat, lots of meat. Ask for their best cut." This was the first time I had ever had to go out and actually buy meat, if people notice the difference, I'll have to just come up with something.

"Really mum, but don't you usually go out and get it?"

"Yes, but the place I get it at is closed for a little while."

"Okay mum."

"I'll just be down in the bake house if you don't mind." I told Mr. T after finding him in the parlor looking around.

He nodded.

I needed to clean the bake house, it smelled horrific. The furnace was hot and ready, the hands and feet were thrown in making the smell twice as bad. The walls needed to be scrubbed, the blood was so thick in certain places that it was nearly black.

"I really should have cleaned up earlier." I mumbled to myself.

After nearly three long hours I was completely done; the bake house smelt nice like a bake house should. It was ready for the afternoon rush.

After I got dressed and ready, Toby came rushing through the door with all the groceries.

"Here mum, it was expensive, so I had to come back for more, is that okay?"

"Of course dear, now get the tables ready they'll be here in only a few short hours."

"And what should I do with myself in that time?" Mr. T asked.

"Well you can open up your barber shop today, oh and, remember, don't press the foot lever k."

"What does it do?"

"It opens up a trap hole to my bake house."

"Why in the world would it do that?"

"I'm not sure, it was there when I got it. Someone owned the house before me so they must have put it in."

"Okay, I won't. Thank you for the warning." He walked off and up into his barber shop.

Hopefully working again could help his memories, meat was so expensive that it would be hard to maintain the cost. Plus people might notice the difference, I'll have to ask Toby to try some.

So that's what I did, I made three different pies, all with different spices added to them and asked Toby which he liked better.

"Well mum, I would have to say that this one is the best, but why not use your original recipe?"

"Well love, I wanted to try something different." More like needed to try something different.

The first costumer was just walking through the doors and I didn't have a single pie made up.

"Hello sir, I haven't started making the pies yet so it will be a bit, I was trying a new recipe."

"That's okay, so long as it's good and hot. The cold's not good for my old bones." The man said, sitting down at the table.

"Is it cold out? I was in the bake house all day, keeps this house warm. Might I suggest a shave he's just upstairs."

"That sounds fine, is it warm up there as well?"

"Yes sir."

The man went upstairs, in about ten minutes he would be downstairs again for a pie. The thought was odd to me.

By the time the man came back downstairs with a clean shave, the first set of pies were done, and more costumers where filling in. The rush lasted for hours and I was glad when it was done. They didn't seem to care about the difference, they liked it so that was good. One less worry. People were very rude, always yelling never asking. They talked loud and would get very impatient if their food wasn't done soon. And there was so many costumers that sometimes it was hard to remember who came first so that they wouldn't start yelling. It was annoying, and before I would send them up to get a shave while they waited just so that they would shut up for good. But now I just had to suck it up.

Sweeney Todd's POV:

It was a good thing that I hadn't forgotten how to shave in prison. I couldn't believe how many people walked through that door, the lively chimes ringing every time someone stepped foot into here. I was more than happy to talk to them, it was easy, even though their petty problems meant nothing to me. The most shocking part to me was that at the end of the day I felt more tired than I ever had. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but it felt deeper than that, I truly felt old. Not so old that I couldn't ever do anything, but just old enough to feel the wrath of the day on me.

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i know that this is not a cliffhanger, and i don't know what else to write. but dont worry i will write.(it's so cold here)thanks


	5. Sweeney Todd? Benjamin Barker? Both?

Disclaimer: no own Sweeney Todd…

Ms. Lovett's POV:

About a week has gone by; Spot was as rowdy as ever. Mr. T or really, Benjamin, liked Spot; they played catch all the time, which was weird for me to watch, and, we ran out of meat. Not only did we run out of meat, we ran out of the funds to pay for said meat; the price was almost as much as the pie itself, so adding that up with the cost of dough, the money was running dry.

"Mum, why are we having problems paying for the meat? You never had this problem before; it was never a big deal." Toby asked, very concerned for our little way of life.

"Well, the place I got my meat from is shut down for awhile and they weren't quite as expensive as everyone else." It wasn't a good excuse, but it was the best I could come up with.

"Ms. Lovett, I could help you pay for the expenses with what I'm getting from my work."

"Its okay love, you guys have to stop worrying about it; it's worked all this time and never failed me once."

They didn't believe me when I said I didn't need help, but I think their sort of scared of me; it was a funny concept but very possible.

Spot came running into the room with the bone Mr. T bought him; he made quite a bit with having a legit barber shop.

"Spot!" Spot had jumped up onto Mr. T and started licking him; before he would have just thrown him off and been pissed.

Sweeney Todd's POV:

Ms. Lovett was having financial problems; it was clear as day, but being very stubborn I have found, she didn't like to get help from anyone but wanted to help everyone else. I tried to offer her some help but she said no, again. I'll never admit this to her face, but she can be quite terrifying and I have found myself afraid to say something because she might get upset.

It was a new day, a new chance to make the world a little better. Only about five minutes after I had opened my shop a man, aristocratic, stuck-up and bitter, walked in and put his coat on the rack.

"I have heard of your shop and your skill; they say there is none the better than you Mr. Sweeney Todd."

"That's very nice of them." He was mean, and probably a total bastard, but everyone could come in and get a shave. (So unlike his self lol)

"I just need a basic shave, if you could make it relatively fast; I have a meeting in twenty minutes."

"Not a problem sir."

He was a particularly hard person to shave, he had so much neck fat that I had to extra careful not to cut him. But, as hard as I tried, I still gave him a small cut.

"Ouch! What do you think you're doing, my colleges were wrong to think that you have any skill!" He yelled, over exaggerating the situating.

But I couldn't hear his words; something in me snapped, or maybe clicked, to this day I'm still not sure. He hadn't gotten from the seat, he wanted his shave finished and he was going to get it. Even with all the fat, I could still slit his throat with ease; my friends were as sharp as ever. He slid down the chute to Ms. Lovett's bake house. I felt more alive than I had in the past week; I was back, or so I had thought at the time.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

I was in the bake house, cleaning. It didn't smell nearly as bad as it used to, but it still got a little on the raunchy side if it wasn't cleaned.

A large, over-weight man slid down the chute; he was back. And he was giving a little gift.

Sweeney Todd's POV (The next day):

I woke up with a bad headache and no memory of the previous day, the last thing I could remember was a rather fat and exceedingly mean man wanted a shave, and then he yelled after I accidently cut him. But that's as far as my memories were taking me.

"Are you alright?" Ms. Lovett asked worried.

My head I wanted to say, but I couldn't, why couldn't I speak? That's when I realized that I wasn't as "alright" as I originally felt.

"I know you can't talk and I know you're probably confused so I'll explain it all now. You killed a man that came into your shop; I'm not sure why, but you did. You freaked and stabbed yourself, it scared Spot and he jumped up to stop you, but he missed and cut your throat pretty bad. The doctor said you would be fine, I left out the killing part and told him that I had no idea why you were stabbing yourself. Which I didn't by the way; if you weren't so weak right now I'd punch you. Please don't do anything like that again, you gave Toby and I a scare." Ms. Lovett looked scared, and I could tell that she didn't believe that I was going to get any better.

At that moment I wanted nothing more than to comfort her and tell her that I was fine and she needn't worry over such stupid little things all the time. But as it was, I couldn't do anything.

A different question popped into my head though; why the hell did I kill someone? I'm not the murderous type; or maybe I am. In the past week I've had moments where I felt like killing someone.

Spot jumped up onto my lap and I couldn't help laughing weakly and laughing really hurt.

"Spot, not now." He jumped off the bed and demanded to be petted.

Ms. Lovett's POV (Almost a month later):

Mr. T was good as new in only a couple of days and was able to work again. As usual I ran out of meat in only a day which was sickeningly quick considering how big some of the people were. Mr. T would act like Ben for almost the whole day, but for a couple of hours he would be the Sweeney Todd I knew and greatly loved. For these couple of hours he would send down around three people; they only lasted around a day.

"Ms. Lovett," Mr. T said, back, if only for a little while.

"Yes?"

"When I'm Ben, what do I do?"

"Mostly just apologize for stuff and run your barber shop. You don't kill people, but I really don't know how you put up with some of them."

"Ben was a coward."

"No, just a nice person, there's nothing wrong with that."

"He's been getting trampled on; I could kill him for that, for not seeing what they are truly doing."

"You speak as if he's a different person."

"He is, not by body, but by mind." Mr. T turned to stare out the window.

He didn't seem to mind my being around all the time; as Sweeney Todd, he only saw me maybe once a day, and I was the only person he saw. And as Benjamin Barker he wanted nothing more than human company.

"We are not the same, I hate most humans; he loves, or at least accepts them. I love to be alone; he hates being alone. I'm one with the night, it is comforting; but I remember a time as Benjamin, when I hated the night, when I was scared of it. We are not the same, he loves Lucy." He stopped, as if to catch himself which made me exceedingly curious as to what he was going to say.

"And who do you love Mr. T." It was probably his razors and never going to be me; but just this once, I didn't mind.

But he never got the chance to answer me because Benjamin decided to interrupt.

"Lucy, remember."

"Never mind love."

* * *

This isn't really a cliffhanger but i hope that you like my little plot twist i worked into here. reviews are always appreciated. and thank you those who have! ^.^ i need some more ideas, i'm hitting a writters block so yah thanks for reading.


	6. Crammed

Okay, so I'm gonna try and add more Toby in this chapter, he's not as big a character in this story as I want so yah. Sorry about not updating sooner, trust me I hate waiting too.

Disclaimer: You can't sue what's not there lol ^.^ (actually it's uber sad…)

Ms. Lovett's POV:

Dear Diary:

Today was quite eventful, Mr. T came back almost four separate times, I say almost meaning that he was only back for a second or two, but I could see that look in his eyes. I never did find out who it was that he loved, if not Lucy. I mean no offense to him what-so-ever but, I'm starting to get annoyed with Benjamin Barker, he liked to interrupt whenever I'm with my beloved Mr. T. He also apologizes way too much! Ah well, he means well so that's a comforting thought. Toby is getting used to Ben; this isn't going to be good when Ben's gone for good.

-I end this with love.

This last month has been the weirdest ever. I thought as I put my diary in the safest place possible, which, the more I think about it, the more I realize that there really is no safe place. I could tell that Benjamin Barker was getting slightely suppsicious of me, mostly because everytime he shows up Mr. T and I are "hugging". Which isn't at all the case, well it was once, but usually it's along the lines of Mr. Todd catching his foot on a nail or me slipping on the water I spilt, among other things. Every once in a while, Ben would show up at the worst possible time causing caos to ensue.

"Mum, we've run out of pies; would you like me to make more?" Toby knocked on the door.

"No, it's okay darling, I'll get it." I smiled, as much as it would be absolutely terrible to send him down there, it was still nice that he cared. "Why don't you tell everyone that's waiting that it'll be another twenty minutes okay."

"K, mum." He ran out the door.

I decided to go check up on Mr. T and see what state of mind he was in.

"Mr. T? You in here?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Yes Ms. Lovett, what's wrong." His voice was a dead give away, he was trying to prettend to be the Mr. T I know, but it was more than obvious.

I decided to play along, sort of.

"Oh nothing love, just tired that's all." Than he did something to really catch me off guard.

He crossed the room and picked me up; then sat me down on his chair.

"You are easy to fool Ms. Lovett." He held a razor to my neck, I guess a mistake like that could really kill me, he was faking, faking.

"It sounded like you were Ben faking you."

"I know that." He was proud of himself, it was obvious.

"You have to be so lonely, why don't you go out into town and do something."

"I was never one for needing human company or needing to leave the house. Benjamin deals with humans enough so I really don't need to now do I?"

"True but still, if I was you I would want to leave atleast once."

"But that's just it, you're not me and I don't want to leave. I'm sure Benjamin leaves enough so that you don't have to deal with my being around all the time."

"That's different, and don't take this offensively but you used to be a little on the annoying side of life."

"How's that?"

"You apologize over everything!"

He laughed.

"That's why I was sent to jail." His face grew grave.

"How?"

"I never stood up for myself, ever. Even when I was in court and about to lose every single thing I had, I still couldn't do anything, I could just say sorry."

"Hmm, well now you're the exact oposite, have you ever said sorry?"

"I think I did once…"

We both started laughing, this was deffinantly a rare thing, we were almost never on the same page. But now it seems that Ben has influenced Mr. T in a small enough way that he doesn't seem to mind a small amount of company.

Sweeney Todd's POV:

"He's probably going to show up soon." I sighed, him showing up all the time was getting on my nerves. I can't do anything that might make him suspicious and I can't leave the damn house. If I did, he might get himself confused or killed and he wasn't the only residence in this body.

"Well then, see you soon I hope. Why don't you come down when you're ready."

Translation: when Benjamin is gone come downstairs so I can have a realish conversation.

"I might, it could be risky though." Even though I was never going to tell this to her face; I really was tired of being locked up in my room, the thought of not being able to do anything was getting to me.

I could feel my control slip so I had less than a minute left.

I grabbed Ms. Lovetts arm and hugged her; it only lasted about ten seconds because I couldn't let Ben take over before hand. She smiled then left.

I blacked out.

Sweeney Todd's POV (as Ben):

I regained consious, almost hitting the floor. I couldn't remember what I had done last but I remembered going to sleep. I must have a bad case of sleepwalking. The sign to my shop said closed, it always said closed when I "woke up" as if when I was sleepwalking I had turned the sign to closed for whatever reason.

Toby's POV:

The "new" Mr. Todd was much more pleasant then the old; I don't know how mum could stand him. Before he hated spot, now they are best friends. It's really weird, but I'm not gonna complain, I like it this way much better.

Mum goes into his room around the same time every day, I never did figure out why. She always seems just a little bit happyeir than before.

"Hello mum."

"Hello dear, are you hungry?"

"Yes!" I always love mums cooking.

"What would you like? I could make some soup."

"That's sounds delicous! Can I help?"

"Of course Toby."

Like I said, she was always happyeir when she came down those stairs and I really don't mind.

Sorry this one's a little shorter than the others but I ran out of ideas if you can tell. I'm starting to introduce a love theme in the story but I need help on ideas. Thanks.


	7. Cooking Disasters

Thanks for all the helpful messages! But I still need ideas, I'm not superwoman, I can't write a story without a little bit of help, thanks. Soooooo, sooooo, very sorry! I didn't mean to take so long to update… I will update more often promise! Thank you for all the reviews they are most welcome!

Disclaimer: Sweeney Todd I do not own, Sweeney Todd I love the most. (in the singsong words of Willy Wonka)

Dear Diary:

Today has been stressful, Mr. T was not being himself; he was being some weird form of the two people, Benjamin and Sweeney. It's like he can't decide who he should or should not be; I feel bad for him.

I looked away from my old journal and looked up to the source of the crash. Toby must have tried to get something from the top shelf. I turned back to my journal to finish the entry.

Toby must have grabbed something from the top shelf so I have to go.

Ms. Lovett.

I was appalled when I went into the kitchen; it wasn't Toby, but Mr. T who had been the cause of the crash. He was, for whatever reason, trying to cook something and the pan slipped.

"Mr. T?" I wasn't quite sure which one he was just yet.

"Ms. Lovett, I'm terribly sorry for the crash, please forgive me; I promise to buy a new pan." He fumbled about his words.

It was Benjamin again, I really had a hard time getting used to his apologizing.

"It's alright love." I internally sighed; I would never let him know about my frustration.

Sweeney's POV:

After Ms. Lovett left the kitchen I sighed with relief; I was getting better at pretending to be Benjamin. I was worried that she would see through me though. She seemed more tired than usual; maybe it was stress.

The pan was a total accident; I woke up this morning with this odd feeling, like I felt the need to _help_ someone. It was weird and foreign to me; but that's why I was cooking. Ms. Lovett needed a day to rest; I had already turned around the shop sign to "closed" but if that bloody thing flipped to "open" I will glue it to the "closed" side.

I _was_ making eggs, but now they're all over the floor. I grabbed the broom and swept it up and put it into the trash. It was chilly outside; I didn't notice that this morning.

My perfect breakfast plan wasn't going all that well; I had planned on making eggs and biscuits, then going back to my room, making it look like Toby had done it. Now, not only did I tip her off that I was cooking, I also made a huge mess. Plus, as an added bonus, I realized that I can't cook; I'm terrible, the eggs that made it to the floor were my fifth set of unsuccessful attempts at cooking.

I was going to try one last time, if it didn't work, I'll just go out and buy something.

I had gotten better at cracking eggs, mostly because I've, now, done it so many times. Not a single piece of shell made it in; that made me feel a bit better. I was also getting used to the smell; at first, it smelled horrible. Guess I'm just not all that used to so much food.

I had managed to finish the eggs without them burning, exploding (which did happen once), dropping to the floor, or dissolving. Who would have thought that if you left eggs in the oven long enough they actually dissolve?

Now I need to make biscuits…

How the hell do you make biscuits!

I had absolutely no idea and I couldn't ask Ms. Lovett, she already knew way too much. I guess I am just going to have to use the "trial and error" method; that works right?

My first attempt ended up exploding in the oven which resulted in a slew of curse words and ten minutes of cleaning; my conclusion, too much of that yeast stuff. My second didn't rise enough and looked as sad as Ms. Lovett; didn't use enough yeast. My third attempt burned because I had walked away for a little while and forgotten about them. And my fourth, yet last attempt turned out to be the best; which wasn't saying much.

I put the two together hoping Ms. Lovett would see the plate and accept it; I, on the other hand, had to go out and replace the pan and all the flour and yeast I used.

So, for the first time in two months, I left the house.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

I took my morning bath, dressed myself, even put on a bit of makeup, and walked into the kitchen, prepared for the new day.

The kitchen smelt, different. Part of it was a terrible smell of burnt bread and eggs, which was odd because I almost never go out to buy eggs. Another part though, smelt delicious; I looked over to the table, on it was a plate of food that looked terrible, but smelt great. There was a note next to it.

"_Ms. Lovett, I'm out buying that new pan for you; sorry about that. I hope you enjoy (or at least stomach) the horrid mess I left you. Also, I don't want you running your shop today, under no circumstance what-so-ever. And I mean that in the fullest; we both do. –Sweeney Todd_

I put my hand over my heart; even though it was a little weird looking (the food), it was still made with me in mind. It was completely unusual for Mr. T, the real Mr. T, to want to help me; I happily ate the food, glad that it tasted much better than it looked and smiled at the thought that, to a degree, I was loved.

I did as he asked and kept my shop closed all day; I did so hoping that he would come and talk to me and open up just a little. That was probably never going to happen, but maybe, at least, he would explain why he did that for me.

But, that never happened; at first I thought that Mr. T was avoiding me, maybe out of embarrassment that he'd shown off his feelings. As the day went on though, and after I checked up on his room with lunch, I began to realize that he had been out on the town all day long. This was odd for him, we _both_ knew the risk of him leaving for too long; if they switched then who knows what could happen.

It was nearing dark and I came to the simple, yet terrifying conclusion.

Something was very, very wrong.


	8. All This Over One Little Pan

Thanks to all who have reviewed, you're the reason this story is still running; even if I take forever to upload…thank you for reading and even though I don't have an end in mind yet, I feel that this story is starting to go somewhere. Thank you.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

I put on my nice, warm jacket and dashed out the door. It was still freezing and I knew how Mr. T rarely ever thought about that. He must have been freezing; he may even catch a cold.

It was silly for to even think about that, something much worse than a cold could have gotten him.

I figured the market should be the first place to look; he did say something about getting a new pan.

Ten stores, three different rushes and two hours later, I stood in the middle of the market. He was nowhere in sight; nobody had seen the barber for at least two hours. I was though, right about the pan; three hours ago he did purchase a nice, expensive pan. But nobody knew where he was currently.

Where did he go? Even he never leaves for this long.

I started my walk back home; the evening rush was over so I didn't run into anyone.

I stopped in front of an alley when I heard a groan; it gave me the oddest sense of déjà vu ever. I'm not sure why I felt the need to look, but I was grateful that I did.

In the alley was Ben; I knew it had to be Ben because he was crumpled up on the ground. There was blood all over the place; the walls looked like someone dumped a bucket of red on them. There were footprints everywhere, along with knives and swords. Among the rubble of bricks and blood I noticed a beautiful pan of the utmost excellence of quality. Tears sprang to my eyes as I began to understand what may have happened, that pan was something to be coveted. Lying next to the pan was one of his razors; he always kept one on his person. Someone tried to rob him; it seems that that someone could very well have been a lot of people.

I ran over to his side and shook him lightly; afraid I might hurt him further. He did not stir and the groaning had stopped. I checked for his pulse, relieved when it was still, surprisingly strong.

"Ma'am, it's terribly dangerous for a lady like yourself to be wandering out here alone." A man of a higher status said, walking over to me, when he saw Ben and the frightening scene around him he gasped, "oh dear lord, let me get him to a doctor for you." I couldn't speak so I just nodded.

He picked Ben up and carefully put him on his shoulders.

We both walked to his coach; I was able so slide in with ease, but the man had a harder time getting Ben in.

"My names Maxamillion, I just moved here. I'm sorry about your husband."

"Oh, no, he's just a really good friend."

"My apologies in the fullest."

The rest of the ride was in silence, but not an uncomfortable one.

I couldn't stop thinking about what happened; it was more than obvious that he'd been attacked and the mess indicated that he fought back.

The pan and his beloved razor were in my lap, I couldn't leave them there. I couldn't help staring at Ben, his face had already started to bruise; the cuts were long but thin and not very deep, only scratches. Yet he looked peaceful, like he was sleeping.

"We're here." He stated, opening the door.

We decided to leave Ben in the coach and bring the doctor to him; the least amount of movement is better.

"So what do we have here?" He asked climbing into the coach. "Hmm, could you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know I found him in an alley; I went looking for him when he didn't come home."

He just shook his head.

"Well, it looks like he got into a fight and lost."

That sounded more like Sweeney than Ben.

Then, another, awful realization hit; he was Sweeney first.

"What can you do?" I asked hysterically.

"He's not really hurt, just knocked out; he'll be fine in a couple of hours. I do suggest that he gets as much rest as possible."

I nodded.

The doctor sighed. "What is it with this man and getting hurt? I swear if I see him again anytime soon," he chuckled slightly. Then his face grew somber, "try to take more care of him because it seems that he's not taking care of himself."

I nodded again.

"Let me give you a ride home Ms." Maxamillion said politely.

I nodded yet again.

He helped me climb in, then, after sitting down, commanded the driver to go.

"Where do you live?"

I knew that I needed to speak, but my voice didn't want to work; my mind didn't want to function.

"My meat pie emporium on fleet street." I was able to mumble after a few painful minutes.

He caught the hint and stayed to himself.

Once we got there I told him thank you, he even helped me get Ben into his room.

"I'm sorry. May we meet again on a much happier note." He bowed and left.

For a small while I just stood there by the chair; I stood there numb.

Then, as if compelled to by a force unknown, I ran over to Ben and cried.


	9. Two Become One

Thanks for the reviews, and I'm sorry (again) that I haven't been uploading. I'll _try_ to upload sooner…plot ideas would be nice though.

The marketplace had been busier than ever; everyone pushed, shoved and crowded around all the small shops. All I wanted to get was a bloody fucking pan.

Each store I stopped at had already run out of yeast and flour so I was going to have to try another day.

After all day of shopping I came across a pan that would make any baker jealous. It had coasted a pretty penny but I didn't mind as I started my trek back home. It was getting dark too.

I took the alley; it was the short cut I knew best. Because it was an alley, I wasn't surprised to see a small gang of four young men.

"That's a nice pan old man." The one in front, probably the leader, said walking closer.

I pulled out my razor that I always kept on me and hid it behind the pan.

"Get him!" He yelled.

They charged forward; all of them brandishing a knife.

I heard the satisfying crunch of a skull cracking and felt the warm blood on my face. I nearly slit one of their throats but he ducked and I barely scratched his chest.

When they knew I was armed and deadly they ran.

I felt satisfied, but not for long; I blacked out in a very familiar manner.

*Ben*

I looked around to a bloody scene and four young kids running away; I felt extremely sick at the sight before me.

One of the kids noticed my change in attitude; he took the advantage of running up and hitting my head with a club before I had any time to react.

I blacked out.

*Sweeney*

When I opened my eyes I instantly shut them; the room was dim, but for whatever reason my eyes hurt like hell to open them.

I tried again, only this time very, very slowly.

I turned my head to the side, slightly discomforted by the swirling feeling in my head.

My nightstand was there, just like it always was.

I tried to sit up, but felt so stiff and weak that I plopped back down on the bed.

Trying again, I managed to sit up.

Other than the dust that had collected, everything looked the same. But I knew something wasn't; something changed and I was too disoriented to figure it out.

While waiting for some of my strength to return I thought back on my last memories.

I remembered cooking for Ms. Lovett; the horrible mess I made, and getting a new pan. I remembered almost getting the pan stolen, and getting hit in the head. There was one thing I needed to remember, one thing that was bugging me.

Then it hit me almost as hard as that damn club, when I was Ben, Ms. Lovett told me, or him, that Lucy was alive.

All of my strength returned in that one instant, but so did hate and anger.

I jumped out of my bed and stormed out of the shop, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

The smell was different than I remembered, more fruity and pleasant; like a warm summer day.

Ms. Lovett jumped up when she heard the door slam, then spun around and looked me in the eyes warily.

She couldn't have known what I was thinking, could she?

I didn't care, she lied! She told me she was dead, but she isn't

_But you don't love Lucy, you said so yourself._

I stopped; that voice! That voice was Benjamin.

_Honestly, who else would I be you insane killer?_

"I AM NOT INSANE!" I screamed as loud as I could.

"I never said you were Mr. T." Ms. Lovett eyed me more warily.

_Look what you've gotten yourself into Sweeney; now she really thinks you're insane._

I looked at Ms. Lovett, Ben had a point. That point was quickly forgotten though; in all my anger I had strength. All of that anger was gone and I was weak again.

When Ms. Lovett noticed me start to collapse she helped me into a seat and brought a cup of gin.

"I know it's gin but it's also good to get rid of an awful sweat like that."

I drank the gin quietly.

When I found my voice I had to ask.

"Why?"

"Why what love?" She knew what I was going to ask.

"Why did you tell me she was dead?"

She thought about it for a moment, deciding what would be the best thing to say.

"Well, I knew she had poisoned herself with the intent of dying, but it just made her mad. I figured that you would try to make her sane again and I knew how impossible it was, 'cause believe me I've tried, and I knew you would have killed yourself."

_So, in other words, she saved you._

"How long has it been?"

"Oh, by now, two weeks I'd recon." She was still giving me a funny look.

"What?" I asked, rolling my eyes a bit.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

*flashback*

The door slammed, making me jump a bit.

I turned to face Mr. T for the second time today; he still looked like a mess.

I felt so bad for him; the doctor said he could be like this forever.

*flashback (inside a flashback, nice no?)*

"Well Ms. Lovett, it seems that he has developed short term memory loss."

"How long will that last?" I asked the doctor nervously.

"It could last a couple of days, or it could be permanent." He drifted off a bit towards the end.

I couldn't speak, I could just feel horrible for him.

*end of _first_ flashback*

It didn't look all that hopeful for him.

"Why?" He yelled.

"I'm sorry." But I wasn't apologizing for lying; I had done that enough times. I was saying sorry for what was going to happen next.

As if on cue, he started to lose his balance; I caught him just before he hit the floor.

As usual it took me ten good minutes to get him back into his bed.

*end flashback*

He looked a bit irritated, but I was more than used to it.

Over the past two weeks, things had changed, a lot.

This wasn't the first time Mr. T had woken up since his little "fight"; in fact, this was the third time today.

This time felt different though; he was asking the same questions yes, but not nearly as many, or as little. Also he hasn't passed out yet; I was feeling a bit hopeful now.

"What has happened since I left?"

What kind of a question was that! He never asked about anything other than Lucy!

"Not much, I had to start making fruit pies though." I laughed nervously.

"Explains the smell." He simply stated.

"Well Mr. T, I need to get ready for the next rush; you may want to rest in the parlor and not here." I laughed another nervous laugh.

He grunted a little.

I walked down into the bake house feeling guilty. During the course of these past two weeks I fell in love; with Maximillion.

Do you like the plot twist? This story is getting closer to the end (probably only a couple of chapters left…) this story deserves an ending…sorry for taking so long again, and thank you for all the kind reviews.


	10. I'm Falling For You, Both Of You

Thank you for giving me your character ideas! The contest is now over, and unless you have a _**really**_ good idea, I won't be taking anymore characters. Please enjoy the tenth chapter and the introduction of one of our newest characters.

Sweeney Todd's POV:

After I was able to shake off the chilling sweat, I made my way up to my room.

It was dustier than hell so I figured I'd do my sinuses a favor and clean the place up a little bit. It can't be that hard; can it?

Ms. Lovett's POV:

I was pleased with the idea of fruit pies; people seemed to like them just as much as the meat pies. They also made the place smell nice. But they were a lot harder to make just right.

As Toby and I were serving our rush of costumers; and trying unsuccessfully to keep Spot out; I heard plenty of swearing and the occasional sound of someone falling.

It was all coming up from Mr. T's room. I was too busy to check on him but I was worried that the swearing would make people leave.

"What the hell is going on up there?" One elderly woman asked Toby.

He just shrugged; he still needed to keep up with the rush.

"Get back here you damn thing!" Mr. T roared from his room. It sounded like he was running; then a hard thud made it very obvious that he had slipped. "I don't need help!" He yelled even louder.

I was going to have to poke my nose in there when I was done.

Two hours later the rush had died; usually people would have left a lot sooner but the sounds from upstairs drew more costumers in for a good laugh.

I still had no idea what was going on up there and at this point I was worried.

I cautiously crept into the room, scared out of my mind.

Mr. T whirled around with a sheepish look on his face.

At first I was stunned by him, his beauty, and the look he was giving me sheepish was a cute look for him.

Once I regained myself I look around the room.

My fell open a little; he grimaced.

The room was a mess! There was water all over the place; a couple of glasses had been smashed as well.

Mr. T himself was dripping wet.

Then I started laughing; thinking back on the last two hours.

Mr. T was cleaning, or trying to at least.

"It was very dusty."

"Let me help you."

He didn't protest.

I grabbed a rag and started lightly scrubbing the floor.

Mr. T's POV:

_So that's how you do it._ I thought while watching Ms. Lovett clean.

I decided not to be rude, so I grabbed a rag and joined her.

She smiled.

It caught me off guard and I couldn't help but stare a little.

Before she could notice I continued scrubbing.

It took us only a couple of minutes to clean the mess I made. I was grateful that she helped.

Spot came running up from the stairs and jumped up on me.

"Why the hell do you always go for me?" I asked half irritated.

He barked. It took most of my strength to stop him from licking my face. He was a strong dog.

Toby came up not long after Spot; he stood in the doorway.

"Yes love?" Ms. Lovett asked in her sweet, motherly voice.

_Sweet and motherly eh? _Ben's thought's butted in.

_Shut up! _ I thought back, feeling slightly insane.

"Maximillion is here and he requests to see you." He left.

"Excuse me." She left down the stairs.

I figured, after getting licked to death, that I would go down.

I walked in to see Ms. Lovett and this, "Maximillion" kissing.

I wasn't sure why I felt so upset, but I knew that I didn't want to be in the room anymore.

"Just getting a rag."

I could have sworn that he gave me a quick, nasty look.

Judge's POV:

It had been while since I had gotten my last shave; I refused to go back to that barber for personal reasons. Unfortunately, with Pirelli gone, there were no other barbers here.

Tonight was the night of another party I was hosting and I needed to be clean shaven.

So I reluctantly I headed over the infamous Sweeney Todd's shop.

When I got there I noticed the place was very clean. I thought a little better of the man.

I also noticed that he wasn't in the room; how unprofessional.

So I waited, only for a couple of minutes though.

He came through the door with an angered expression, but, as soon as he noticed me his face changed to a light, fake smile.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" The kind, soft tone in his voice sounded a bit forced. I let it go figuring he was having a bad day.

"Just a shave sir."

He gave me my shave in silence, unlike last time.

I had forgotten just how skilled he was; I was done in as little as two minutes.

I paid him double his usual fare and left without a word.

I wondered idly what was on the barbers mind.

Once I got home my assistant, whom always showed up early to events like this, was waiting by the stairs.

"Yes Kathleen?"

"Just wanted to make sure you were ready."

"As always."

We climbed into the coach and left; our destination was the hall I had rented out for tonight.

Thank you again for all the nice reviews; since Kathleen was the first character idea I had gotten in the past few days she made it into chapter ten. The next chapter has another bad guy that I'm very happy to introduce (thank you again). I'm almost done with the rough draft of chapter 11 so (if I have the computer by Thursday it will be typed and ready to view. Not Wednesday though, I have a party to go to ^.^) thank you again!


	11. The Skeletons In My Closet Are Back

Ah, finally, completing a chapter when I planned too; I feel so accomplished. Thank you again for the reviews and you'll know if your character made it in or not because they will all be introduced after this chapter, thanks.

Judge's POV:

The party was a complete success; royalty from all over this fine country were attending. Many of my college's were a tad jealous as well.

The coach was a little less than quiet; I had two sexy women sitting next to me, both completely drunk. I was a well satisfied man.

The night was great.

My head was pounding; or was that the door? All of my hired servants haven't arrived yet; it was way too early. I trudged down the stairs with a hangover from hell; the doorbell still ringing every once in a while.

"What hour this is for you to be pounding on my door."

"Its midday sir. I'm sorry for waking you your honor but I have come with an important message."

"Come in." He followed behind me as I led him to the living room. "Well, out with it."

"I have some valuable information on Pirelli, and with your permission my lord, wish to further investigate on this unholy crime."

"And what crime is that?" Nothing about the barber's move was unholy or a crime; this man must be a nutcase.

"Pirelli was murdered."

"You know this how?" That made absolutely no sense.

"I have my sources; I will hunt down his murderer for a small fee."

"If you find the perpetrator I will pay you." He was never going to find anything; his accusations were false. I watched his boy clean the place up right before they drove off. "What is your name?" I would need this to arrest the man if he was to be wrong.

"Emille, sir." And with that he left.

Emille's POV:

Sweeney Todd killed my best friend and now he will pay.

Mr. T's POV (before the party):

_Why the fuck!_

I screamed in my head once again. "I had him!" He was sitting in my chair! I so easily could have killed him; why didn't I?

Ms. Lovett came running up the stairs to see what was going on. I softened a bit; she had a peculiar effect on me today. Maximillion followed close behind, making my mood sour instantly.

"Mr. T, is everything all right?"

I wanted to tell her what was wrong; I wanted to tell her that I was too lost in my own damn thoughts, that I let the filthy man go away. But I couldn't, not with Maximillion around. "Nothing, I'll be quiet now."

Ms. Lovett's POV:

I could tell he wanted to say something important, but it wouldn't be good for Max to hear. So we both left without another word.

"Yes, I'm quite sure there is nothing wrong." Max said sarcastically.

He did seem to be acting strangely ever since he walked in on us.

Max pulled me into a big kiss, instantly taking my breath away. I couldn't help but smile; all my worries were now gone. But as soon as the kiss was over, my worries ignited again. Max noticed this and frowned a little.

"Why don't we go out on the town today; my treat."

"Alright." I couldn't help but smile.

Once the coach arrived we climbed into its luxurious seats. I was in awe the entire time. Each shop had items that I could never imagine owning. And, each time we went into a shop I had to decline gifts of every sort.

It was getting dark rather quickly now, but there was one place max still wanted to go to. "It's only the finest party in the entire town! I was given an invitation and was encouraged to bring a date." I smiled at the idea of being his date.

"Alright, I'll go."

He directed the driver to take us to the town's best hall. I, being a lowly worker, had never been inside the hall before. I was amazed at its grandeur. The size was incomprehensible to me.

"Shall we?" he asked extending his arm.

"We shall." I smiled, gently grabbing his arm.

The night was unimaginable; the food was amazing. The music and the people were great; the drinks, addicting. I chatted with more royalty than I thought even existed. By the end of the night I felt a bit tipsy, like most of the people here. But Max, being a gentleman, brought me home.

"Thank you for tonight." I said giggling slightly. The giggling increased when he kidded me goodnight.

Maximillion's POV:

"Did you get any information?" the driver asked as we pulled away.

"Nope, she's a smart drunk."

"Damn." He spat.

"Calm down Emille, I'm doing the best I can; after all, you're paying me good cash."

"I know, I'll talk to Judge Turpin tomorrow, he looked drunk, and baked if you ask me." Emille had a point there.

Mr. T's POV:

_Why are you pacing?_ Ben asked appearing next to me. I felt even more insane.

_It's how I think._ He nodded and disappeared.

I heard a noise coming from downstairs that broke me of my concentration. The stairs creaked at my steps; it was the only noise now. I opened the door with my friends behind my back, only to find Ms. Lovett leaning over her counter giggling madly.

"Oh Mr. T, how was your evening?" She asked slurring her words heavily.

"Fine." I eyed her carefully. When she started to lose her balance I rushed to catch her. I had my arms wrapped around her so I couldn't see if she was still awake, but she surprised me by turning around and giving me a hug.

It was the first time I felt right all day.

Sorry that this chapter was shorter than the others (I usually write over a thousand words and this time it's 950ish). Thanks for reading (I know I thank you all the time, but I'm very appreciative of all your support). Chapter twelve is going to be dedicated to the Fourth of July (I know it's American, so you'll just have to read to find out how it fits in the story properly). It may not come out on the fourth (it might be before or after) so please note that. Thanks one last time (on this chapter anyways)!


	12. The 4th Is Only Good For Some

Sorry for uploading almost a whole week past the 4th…ah well, enjoy this next chapter. Also remember, this story is only about two chapters from being done (sad I know). One last thing, if any of you are Yugioh fans (I know it's random, hear me out), I started a new fanfic for it; it's rated M and has a lot of blood and violence (which is something all Sweeney fans have in common). Anyways, enjoy.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

_Last night had to be a dream, it just had to._ I thought over and over again while pacing my room. Last night was too good to be true, and I had taught myself early on not to believe everything so easily.

I dressed into one of my nicer work dresses; for the occasion of course. Today was an American holiday they called "The 4th of July" so my shop was going to be full of them today. I wanted to make a good impression; after all, many of them are far more wealthy than most of us.

"Mum, we have some costumers; they're dressed really funny. All in reds, blues and whites." Toby said, standing at me door.

"That's because most of our costumer's today are American. Come love; let's get them started with some ale."

He ran off without another word; tending to our unusual gests.

After having costumers show up and stay longer than the usual rush I realized that people were going to be coming in all day. I just hoped my bones wouldn't drop after tonight.

"Oh isn't he a cute little boy! Have you ever seen fireworks?" A lady asked Toby after he served her food.

"Fireworks? Sounds awfully dangerous ma'am." He said politely.

"How sad, they're really, very fun." She smiled.

"Ms. Lovett!" I turned to see Max standing at the counter.

"Yes Max?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to see some fireworks with me; my friends have purchased some."

"Well, for one, my shop is busy and I don't want to leave Toby here by himself. And two, I'm British, I don't really celebrate today like you do."

"For the first part, my friend Emille said he would be glad to help; he figured you'd not want to leave your boy here. As for the second part, you don't have to be American to light some fireworks off." He smiled hopefully.

"Let me talk to Toby." He nodded.

_I'm glad I switched to fruit pies, now he can man the shop while I'm gone._ I thought as I walked over to Toby. "Love, would you mind if someone helped you while I'm out with Max?"

"Of course not mum. If you mind my asking, where are you going?"

"To see some fireworks, I promise to tell you all about them."

"That sounds like fun mum!" He beamed, I smiled back.

I walked back to Max. "It's a deal; let me just get ready."

Mr. T's POV (One hour after Ms. Lovett left):

Today was exceptionally busy for me, and worse for Ms. Lovett. But thankfully, once it started to get dark everyone left. Only to bring the sound the sound of explosions in the distant.

Once my shop was cleaned up I decided to go downstairs. I was surprised to see the place still dirty; usually it was pristine by now.

There was a note on one of the tables. I picked it up, horrified at its contents.

Mr. Todd,

I have your boy Toby; if you ever want to see him alive again you'll meet me at the alley between the market and Pirelli's old stand. If you don't show, I'll send his head to you.

-Emille.

_NO! NOT TOBY! HE'S JUST A CHILD! Not Toby._

I ran towards the alley as instructed, worried the whole time.

"Ah, you've arrived; I was afraid you wouldn't show." He laughed cynically.

Emille had Toby on the ground; he was unconscious and tied up; a pool of blood surrounded him.

"What do you want?" I yelled, mad beyond all belief.

"Simple, your head."

I didn't even know this man; what could I have ever done to him?

"In the event that you're wondering why I want you dead, I'll explain. Pirelli was my best friend from childhood; I know you killed him." He pointed towards Toby. "That disgusting child should have died, not Pirelli! So, to exact my revenge perfectly, I will kill you and the boy."

"That will never happen." I said coldly, preparing to kill him.

Kathleen's POV:

I _was_ going to see the fireworks, being American and all, but I was lost in an alley way.

"That will never happen." I heard a pale, frightening man say to another.

They were both in a fighting stance and the one who spoke was holding a barbers razor blade. On the ground was a boy, only twelve or so that had been beaten and tied.

I ran over to the boy's side, instantly worried.

"Touch him and die." The other man threatened.


	13. When I Die

This is the absolute last chapter; thank you for following me through this odd yet awesome adventure of writing and reading. I hope this story is everything you wanted and more; please enjoy as I send my characters into their destiny.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

The fireworks were weird but nice. They were huge explosions in the sky; some where more colorful than others. They didn't seem all that safe either.

"Max don't point that at me!" I laughed; Max joined me.

His face changed so quickly that I hadn't even had time to react. But after a few, nerve-racking seconds, the pain hit me with a force that put me on my knees instantly. I couldn't make any noise I could just stare at Max.

He wasn't going to help me.

"Look, this was all a ploy; this guy named Emille wanted Sweeney Todd dead, so he hired me to weaken him. I needed to know his weaknesses first; that's why I pretended to love you. Your Sweeney Todd is now dead, and you will be too soon enough." He laughed and walked away; his friends joined him.

Mr. Todd's POV:

Emille pulled out a small, odd looking device. "It's a revolver, their gun technology is so advanced these days." He pointed it at me forehead.

I relaxed internally; guns had a delay before the bullets came out. But on the outside, I made sure that I visibly cringed.

Emille was so wrapped up in his own satisfaction that he didn't notice the girl he threatened to kill drag Toby away.

_Good._ I thought to myself while trying to find a way out of this mess.

"Any last words? Oh wait, that's right, you said your last words in front of Judge Turpin. Wasn't it _sorry_ Benjamin Barker." He cocked the gun while laughing.

As soon as he pulled the trigger I ducked and ran towards him, brandishing my knife. When he didn't make any noise, I was afraid that I had missed.

I backed up to get a better look; the knife was trough both sides. He fell over, making a loud, dull thud as he hit the ground.

I ran back to the shop hoping Ms. Lovett would be back. Instead I found Max; he was conveniently rummaging through her stuff.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I ran up and slit his throat; his body was tossed into the furnace. I heard some crashing from the kitchen; I jumped, if it was another intruder than they were going to die.

Ms. Lovett was leaning over the counter; blood stained her dress.

"Ms. Lovett what happened?" I asked, grabbing her.

"Max he…" she was out of breath, "shot me…with…a…firework."

"It's okay, he's gone; I've got you." She gave me a weak hug.

The door flung open with the same doctor we've come to know so well holding Toby; the girl that took him followed behind. He gave Ms. Lovett a funny look; realizing what was going on, he set Toby at one of the tables and tended to Ms. Lovett.

*Later*

"You may kiss the bride." Just like always the kiss made me feel invincible; like I could take the whole world on twice as long as she was by my side.

Over the past months, and after moving to America, Nellie and I officially adopted Toby. We had trouble getting Spot on the boat; we even had to pay extra. But we owed Spot that much and more; after all, we wouldn't be here now if not for him.

One of the reasons we moved was the death of all those people, especially the Judge whom I killed when he came looking for Emille, had attracted way too much attention. They talk about it here, calling me _Jack the Ripper_ for all the burnt up corpses in the basement. But that didn't bother me, I was happily in love; my life had finally righted itself.

Dear Diary:

When I die, I'll have to thank my old Albert for giving me that old chair; hopefully he'll not take it too personally.

-Ms. Lovett


End file.
